Fire

You carve a scorched mark wherever you go,
You are the wielder of a mighty sword,
You destroy, yet purify,
Among the mortals, you are lord.

You rest in our homes,
You flicker away in your humble state,
But those foolish enough to think they own you,
Soon meet their an fate.

You are awesomely destructive,
Yet your breath keeps us warm,
You are a symbol of holiness,
But in your heart, you hold a storm.

We ask you take mercy on us,
And sheath your sword this night,
We shall sleep in our beds,
Conscious of your eagerness to fight.